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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28114350">With Rue and Beauty</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mareyshelley/pseuds/mareyshelley'>mareyshelley</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Once Upon a Time (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon doesn’t exist here, F/M, Misunderstandings, fairy tale AU, throw canon out of the window</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:07:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,391</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28114350</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mareyshelley/pseuds/mareyshelley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After losing both of her parents to the ogres, Belle decides to call upon the Dark One, to see if he really could have saved them.<br/>Winner of Best Dark Castle in the 2021 TEAs.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>122</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>180</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maplesyrup/gifts">Maplesyrup</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdrumple/gifts">nerdrumple</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The most satisfying thing about her day was closing her chamber door in the evening.</p><p>Since her parents had both been killed during the Ogres War, Belle had little time to herself anymore. The attention of the Lady of Avonlea was always in demand. Parts of the town still needed rebuilding, neighbouring lands wanted to make alliances, and all of her father’s men -- <em> her </em> men -- wanted her to marry. The talk of marriage only increased when the announcement of a royal wedding reached them, and Belle was invited. </p><p>She would have been married by now, if Gaston hadn’t been killed at the very end of the war. It was his soldiers that had won them the final battle, but there was a part of her, a dark part that she kept hidden away, that was relieved she hadn’t had to marry him. It would have only been another regret.</p><p>When she closed her chamber door at the end of the day, with that satisfying click of the bolt, Belle felt that she could breathe again. The only marriage proposals she had to worry about were in her books. The towns and kingdoms in need of saving sought the help of the heroines on the page. She was just a quiet spectator in their stories, free of any important decision making, or being bullied into making decisions she would later regret.</p><p>It was those same books that led her back to the scrolls she’d found almost two years before, when she’d tried to convince her father to seek outside help against the ogres. He’d refused, back when he was the lord. That was his decision to make, but now she was the lady and there was no one to stop her from making the choice she’d wanted to make then. Although it was for a very different reason this time, Belle couldn’t ignore the part of herself that wanted to see the creature that <em> might </em> have helped them. She needed to meet him to know for herself if her regret for not calling him was founded.</p><p>Surely he couldn’t help with <em> everything</em>.</p><p>Her maid brushed out her hair as Belle flipped through her latest book. Few people cared to ask what she liked to read, and for once she was glad. More and more, as people assumed she’d taken to reading annals and chronicles to better prepare herself for her new role, Belle took advantage of being able to get her hands on books she could never read before. Her maid had no idea that she was reading up on dark magic. The fairy language was very black and white when it came to magic, goodness and darkness, and what magic should and should not be used for. It didn’t offer up as much as she’d hoped, but it did prepare her for what to expect from dark magic. There would be a price, and she should be careful about how she agreed to pay it.</p><p>“My lady?”</p><p>Belle looked up from the pages, and Jenny smiled at her reflection in the mirror.</p><p>“Which ribbon, my lady?”</p><p>Marking the page with her thumb, Belle closed the book and smiled back. It seemed silly to care what colour ribbon she wore to sleep in. Her maid was the only one to ever see her dressed for bed, but that night would be different. Her maid wouldn’t be the last person to see Belle before she slept, and the thought made her blush.</p><p>“One of the blue ones,” she answered, hoping her maid wouldn’t see the colour in her cheeks. “A light one.”</p><p>The maid finished braiding her hair behind her back, and tied it in place with the blue ribbon.</p><p>Belle had a whole assortment of them now, in varying colours. She hadn’t had many new dresses during the war, and even in the two years that followed, it felt wrong to dress too nicely. People were still trying to rebuild their businesses, find new homes, and mourn their dead. Her advisors said that she had to look more like a great lady, that her old dresses simply weren’t enough. She conceded to wearing ribbons and jewels in her hair. There was a certain advantage to finding the right outfit for the right occasion.</p><p>Fine dresses could wait, but if Belle wanted to win someone over, she needed to use every advantage she could. The ribbon matched her eyes, and her books told her that he appreciated colour.</p><p>“Will that be all, my lady?”</p><p>“Yes, thank you.”</p><p>Jenny gave a shallow curtsy and gathered up her things. Belle watched her through the mirror, nervously pulling at the bow holding the front of her nightgown together. The air felt tense, heavy, and Jenny left quicker than she normally would, as if Belle’s own anxious energy had pushed at her back.</p><p>Listening to the echoing steps of the maid receding down the hall, Belle moved to the foot of her bed. She lay the scrolls out on her covers, reading them over again. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d read about the summoning, and what to expect when it worked. <em> If </em> it worked, she had to be prepared.</p><p>She stood facing the bed, with her back to the door, and a chill ran through her. Her maid had helped her dress into her nightgown, and all Belle had to cover herself with was a thin, silken robe. She wrapped it tighter around her waist and took a deep breath. She could do this. She knew what she wanted, and she knew from her research that she was to take nothing at face value.</p><p>
  <em> She could do this. </em>
</p><p>“Rumplestiltskin,” she called.</p><p>Nothing happened.</p><p>“Rumplestiltskin.”</p><p>Her curtains rustled in a breeze that wasn’t there.</p><p>“Rumple--”</p><p>“I heard you the first time, dearie. You should have turned around.”</p><p>The voice startled her, but she didn’t flinch. She’d been ready for some sort of trick, and she wasn’t going to slip up before they’d even begun. Belle turned with as much poise as she could. He giggled, a childish sound, but she wouldn’t let him see that he’d made her heart race, or that nerves were already starting to creep up her spine.</p><p>Instead, Belle lifted her head and regarded him with a cool look, albeit a very curious one.</p><p>She hadn’t known what to expect when he appeared. All of the tales and scrolls described him as monstrous, and while his leather, spiked clothes may have fit that description, the man himself did not. He leaned against the door, calm and smiling and obviously used to commanding any room, but he wasn’t much taller than herself, and almost everyone was taller than Belle. His skin was unusual, with a gold sheen in the candlelight of her room, and an almost raised, scaled-look to it. Perhaps that was what people considered so beastly about him, or maybe it was his large eyes.</p><p><em> Could </em>he have helped them against the ogres? Would he have simply tried to scare them all away?</p><p>Narrowing her eyes, Belle tilted her head thoughtfully, and that was enough to make the gleeful grin slip from his face. His gaze swept over her, from her bare feet to her nightgown, and back up to her face. Belle pulled her robe over her chest.</p><p>He moved closer to her, with steps so light they made no sound. It wasn’t surprising that he’d entered her room without her hearing, a thought which should have been unnerving, but Belle refused to be unnerved. She kept her feet firmly where they were as he crossed the space between them, until they were close enough to reach out and touch one another. He leaned closer still, his strange reptilian eyes searching her face, and grinned.</p><p>“Have I left you speechless?”</p><p>It was then that she realised she was holding her breath.</p><p>Belle frowned, and his eyes sparkled with amusement, as if annoying her was exactly the reaction he’d hoped for. It probably was.</p><p>“Of course not,” she said quietly.</p><p>With gleaming eyes, Rumplestiltskin danced around her and moved to the foot of her bed. Belle tried to regain her voice, but her heart pounded loudly in her chest and it was hard to think when he stood so near.</p><p>“My, haven’t we been busy?” he sing-songed, fluttering his fingers over her scattered research.</p><p>“I wanted to be prepared.”</p><p>“Indeed?” He inclined his head towards her. “Prepared for what?”</p><p>“For you. For the deal I wished to make,” she answered, gathering up the scrolls. “It always pays to be prepared, and there’s a wedding I’ve been invited to at the palace.”</p><p>Rumplestiltskin made a face, wrinkling his nose. “And you wish to marry the handsome prince yourself?”</p><p>Belle frowned. “<em>No</em>.”</p><p>“The beautiful princess?”</p><p>She dropped her scrolls onto the mattress and faced him fully, squaring her soldiers. His smile stretched wider. If the Dark One really was capable of seeing off an army of ogres, he wouldn’t have needed magic to do it or a beastly appearance to scare them away. He would have simply annoyed them all into leaving.</p><p>“For months now my council has been trying to convince me to marry,” she explained steadily. “The invitation to the royal wedding has only made things worse.”</p><p>“I see,” he said slowly, tenting his fingers and tapping them together. “So... you would like me to arrange you a suitable match?”</p><p>Belle huffed a sigh. “I would like you to let me finish.”</p><p>He laughed, and the sound was almost as startled as it was gleeful. She wondered how many people talked to him without fear.</p><p>“I want to go with someone to the wedding, yes,” she conceded. “But I want you to find someone who expects nothing from me. I don’t want someone who’s truly interested in marriage, or my land or title, or… anything else. I want someone just to stop my council from pushing me into a match I do not want.”</p><p>“To keep them quiet for a month or two,” he concluded, waving his hand as if he understood how courts worked and found them nothing but dull.</p><p>That was fine with Belle. She found it all rather tedious herself.</p><p>“Exactly,” she said.</p><p>Humming, Rumplestiltskin moved around her with an odd spring in his step. Belle followed him, determined not to turn her back on him or take her eyes from him. But he was too quick for her. His hand brushed across her shoulders, and she felt her braid loosen. When she finally caught him, he held up the ribbon from her hair with a pleased smile. He pinched it between his fingers, inspecting the colour in the candlelight.</p><p>“I think something could be arranged,” he said at last, smiling as though he couldn’t be happier to have found someone to play along with his games.</p><p>Belle licked her lips, determined not to return his smile. “What would you want in return?”</p><p>“Oh, nothing much.” He shrugged and splayed out his hands. The ribbon had disappeared. “Just your firstborn child.”</p><p>Belle had expected this price, or something like it, but that didn't stop her heart from clenching at the thought. She swallowed the lump forming in the back of her throat.</p><p>“But I… I intend to never marry.”</p><p>Rumplestiltskin laughed. "I'm not asking you to <em> marry. </em> All I require is your first bairn. Of course, if you don't take my deal..." He winced, a look of mock sympathy crossing his face. "Then you likely <em> will </em>marry."</p><p>He really was as much a trickster as he was the formidable Dark One. She could either agree to give up a child she would never have, or attend the wedding alone and find herself being pushed into another loveless betrothal.</p><p>"Who would attend the wedding with me?" she asked carefully.</p><p>“Haven't you worked it out?” He pointed at her then took a step closer, back into her personal space, and pointed at himself.</p><p>Belle sucked in a breath. She understood his meaning clearly, but her mind still worked to try to convince her that she’d somehow misunderstood. If the Dark One accompanied her somewhere so public, and he asked for a child from her after playing her betrothed… He brushed his hand through her hair, startling her from her thoughts. The curls fell over her shoulder, pulled free from her braid, and he twirled them around his fingers.</p><p>She shook her head.</p><p>“You would accompany me to the wedding?” she asked,</p><p>“Is that so ridiculous?” He trilled the R, and Belle was sure he’d meant it to sound mocking, but if she didn’t know any better, she’d have said that the Dark One had sounded defensive.</p><p>“No,” she said carefully. It could work. Arriving with him would be quite the statement. It would scare away any threats from neighbouring lords who wished to steal land from Avonlea while it was weakened from the war. Her council would certainly stop pushing her to find a husband if they thought she was tangled up in a deal with the Dark One.</p><p>Then there was the matter of a child. If they thought she’d bore the Dark One’s child, no one would dare push her into marriage.</p><p>“No,” Belle said more certainly, and even found it within her to smile at his cleverness. “No, that’s not ridiculous at all. It would work nicely.”</p><p>He made a face of disgust, pulling his hand away, and Belle had to bite her lip to keep herself from grinning.</p><p>“<em>Nicely</em>?”</p><p>“Oh, yes. You’re the perfect partner,” she said.</p><p>His fingers twitched, like he wanted to reach for something but wasn’t sure what. Belle took pity on him and stepped closer. He straightened his back, drew his hands up in front of his chest, and blinked owlish when she stood directly in front of him; so close their chests almost touched.</p><p>“I will give you what you want, if you come with me and put a stop to all this talk of me marrying.”</p><p>“And you trust me not to want your… assets for myself?”</p><p>She shook her head, becoming more certain by the second.</p><p>“I’ve read a lot about you. You’ve dealt with kings and queens alike, and you’ve never made deals for those things before. Why would you want the title of lord, or a war-torn land on the edge of everything?”</p><p>Rumplestiltskin pressed his lips into a thin line, his eyes narrowing in thought. She’d done her research, and done it well. If there was one thing Belle was good at, it was reading and remembering clearly what she had read. She had nothing he wanted but the promise of a child that might never be.</p><p>“Confident little thing, aren’t you?” he said at last.</p><p>Belle laughed. “I just like to read.”</p><p>A smile flicked at his lips, but he pushed it away and turned it into a wicked grin.</p><p>"It seems we have a deal," he said, fanning his hand between them. His fingers almost brushed the front of her robe, but Belle didn’t pull away.</p><p>“You'll go with me?”</p><p>His hand moved up, to the loose curls fallen around her shoulder. He twirled a lock around his index finger, and Belle held her breath.</p><p>"Yes," he said slowly. "Yes, I will go with you."</p><p>She released her breath, nodded, and hoped he wouldn't notice the shiver that ran through her.</p><p>"Then we have a deal," Belle said, with far more certainty than she felt.</p><p>The cold of the room surrounded her again. A feeling like a breeze swirled around her bare legs, and even with her lack of experience in magic, Belle knew that it was his magic sealing their deal. She pulled her robe tighter around herself, and Rumplestiltskin’s smile slowly stretched wider. Her hair slipped from his hand.</p><p>"Deal," he agreed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The day of the wedding came sooner than Belle would have liked. Her maid hurried to dress her and pin back her hair, while the carriage and horses were readied for her journey.</p><p>It was her first big appointment outside of Avonlea since becoming lady of the land. She’d travelled only twice before to the capital and the royal castle. The second time had been shortly before the ogres arrived, when her father had begun his search for a suitable match for her. If nothing else, Belle was thankful that he hadn’t settled on a suitor until after the first attack, when there had been no time for weddings.</p><p>Sighing at the memory, she tried to focus on herself in the vanity. Jenny set the comb aside and tied Belle’s hair with a ribbon; a green one this time, to go with her green gown. The only jewel she wore that day was the small diamond necklace her mother had bequeathed to her. She didn’t have much else, but she wanted to make a show of Avonlea rebuilding its prosperity. Little-by-little Avonlea would regain its strength and defences, and then Belle would never need to marry.</p><p>Jenny left her once all was done, to inform the steward that she was ready to leave. Belle stood and moved to the window. Her velvet skirt looked pretty; it draped down her hips and swayed nicely as she moved, but it was heavy and felt more like a weight than anything. It wasn’t practical. She didn't get to wear armour like many of the lords would, despite having seen more war in her homeland than any of them.</p><p>Outside, people rushed around her carriage. The horses were all ready and waiting for her, and she saw the moment Jenny found the steward waiting by the keep doors. Claude was a particular sort. For as long as Belle could remember, while her father was lord, he had liked things <em> just so</em>.</p><p>“Are we all ready?”</p><p>Belle held still, determined not to flinch. Rumplestiltskin leaned in over her shoulder, his face close to hers, and peered outside. She shook her head, ignoring the urge to turn and face him.</p><p>“I thought we were to meet at the castle,” she said.</p><p>“Is this not a castle?” he teased, laughing at his own joke.</p><p>Belle rolled her eyes. “The royal castle.”</p><p>“Oh, no,” he said low in her ear. “We’ll be arriving together.”</p><p>“Won’t it be enough to be <em> there </em>together? If they see us dancing, I think they’ll understand that I’m spoken for.”</p><p>He was quiet for a moment. Too quiet. Belle turned from the window and found him frowning at her, his odd scales creased into a dent between his brows.</p><p>“Dancing?” he repeated.</p><p>“Well, how else would they know we were to be wed? You can’t just,” she waved her hands, “go off and do whatever it is you do, and leave me by myself. No one would know we were together.”</p><p>His clever smile returned, slow and calculated, and he held up a finger as if he meant to tap the end of her nose. Belle frowned.</p><p>“They’ll <em> know </em> because we’ll be arriving together.”</p><p>“And after that?”</p><p>He faltered, and Belle lifted her chin, counting that as a small victory. He was very clever with words, but so was she. </p><p>“If nobody believes that I am engaged at the end of this,” she said and turned back to the window, “then you would be in my debt. You expect a child from me, but you… You would have given me nothing.”</p><p>Rumplestiltskin growled, a deep, low threat that sent a shiver through her. His hand slid over her bare shoulder, and his fingers curled just enough to stroke the base of her neck.</p><p>“Don’t test me, dearie. I never go back on a deal.”</p><p>Belle swallowed, but kept her back straight and her eyes on the courtyard. “Then you will have to stay by my side.”</p><p>He didn’t respond. His fingertips lightly stroked up the side of her throat, the tips of his nails tracing along her skin, and then it was gone. Belle turned quickly, but she didn’t find him behind her. Rumplestiltskin had moved to the other side of the room, where he leaned against her bedpost and played with the rope tie which held the drapes in place.</p><p>She took a deep breath, willing the warmth in her cheeks and the flutter of nerves in her stomach to go away.</p><p>“So.” She cleared her throat, drawing his attention. “Shall we go to the carriage?”</p><hr/><p>The walk from her chambers to the courtyard had been an awkward one.</p><p>Rumplestiltskin stalked behind her the whole way. She wasn’t sure what he was doing behind her back, but the looks of terror on her households’ faces told Belle that he was liking smiling at them. During both of their meetings so far, he’d seemed to use his smiles, the kind that showed all of his teeth and wrinkled his nose, to make her uneasy.</p><p>It hadn’t worked, but her people didn’t know the truth of the creature that was now sitting opposite her in the carriage. Watching him as the horses pulled them along, and the carriage shook along the cobbled road, it was hard to imagine why anyone would be scared of him. He fidgeted, but he didn’t seem to realise he was doing it. His hands moved restlessly; from his side, to his cuffs, to his lap, to his collar. They never sat still, much like their owner, and whenever the carriage wheels hit a particularly uneven patch of road, Rumplestiltskin looked more like a displeased cat than a fearsome sorcerer.</p><p>Belle pressed her lips together to hold back a smile, and settled down in her seat with a book.</p><p>“What do you have there?”</p><p>“It’s a book,” she said slowly. He narrowed his eyes.</p><p>“Yes, I know it’s a book. Where did you get it?”</p><p>“I always bring a book with me on long journeys.” Belle leaned forward and reached under her seat. Rumplestiltskin watched her closely, and tilted his head when she pulled out another book. “Would you like one?”</p><p>Baffled, the corner of Rumplestiltskin’s lip twitched up as he took the book from her. It was one of three she had packed in her carriage. She always took three, picked out the night before, to be placed on the shelf underneath her seat. Rumple turned it over and read the title. She only had fiction novels with her that day, and the look on his face as he read the golden text made her smile widen.</p><p>“Don’t you like tales of heroism and romance?”</p><p>“Is that what you call it?” He pulled a face in distaste. “<em>Heroism</em>?”</p><p>“Where would we be without heroes?”</p><p>“Where indeed,” Rumplestiltskin mimicked. “Where would we be without meddling, handsome knights, and pesky little fairies.”</p><p>“<em>Are </em> fairies heroes?”</p><p>His face fell. The snarl of disgust faded, replaced instead by surprise, at first, and then a dark smile. He lowered the book into his lap and leaned towards her.</p><p>“No,” Rumplestiltskin said, searching her face. “But most would say they are beings of,” his eyes dropped to her lips, “<em>light</em>.”</p><p>Belle smirked and leaned closer, so that their noses almost bumped when the carriage rolled over a rock in the road.</p><p>“Most need to read more books,” she countered. “I’ve read some of their old texts, and they’re certainly not benevolent.”</p><p>“Indeed?” he asked, tilting his head. “And when did you read these... <em> curious </em> texts?”</p><p>Belle smiled. “When I was researching you and dark magic.”</p><p>She held his gaze as best she could in the rocking wheel house. Rumplestiltskin was the first to pull away, much to her satisfaction, with his lips pressed into a thin line. Belle counted it as another win when he sat back and looked out of the window.</p><p>He seemed to contemplate something, and when the silence stretched on, filled with only the irritated tapping of his fingers on his leather trousers, Belle returned to her book. She hadn’t been able to read a thing since their journey had begun, and Rumplestiltskin appeared to be determined to keep it that way.</p><p>“Why did you call for me?” he asked. Belle lowered her book and looked at him patiently. “You aren’t in need of magical help. Why call for <em> me </em> and not one of your malevolent fairies?”</p><p>Her first instinct was to shrug off his question, to act as if their deal was exactly as it appeared on the surface. She had been in need of help, and had turned to the one creature she hoped would help without judgement. But she decided not to shrug. It was better to be honest than to lie.</p><p>“Curiosity.” Belle shifted in her seat. “I wanted to call for you during the Ogres War, but my father wouldn’t hear of it. I suppose I just… I wanted to meet you, to see if you really could have saved us.”</p><p>He eyed her shrewdly. Belle wondered if he didn’t quite believe her, that she would deliberately find some deal to make with him, just to meet him. But it was the truth, whether he believed her or not.</p><p>Carefully crossing his legs, Rumplestiltskin straightened his back and nodded once. She wasn’t sure if that meant he accepted her explanation or not, but he didn’t ask her anything further.</p><p>“Your father died,” he stated simply. As if it was that simple.</p><p>Belle looked down at the closed book in her lap.</p><p>“And my mother.” <em> And Gaston, </em> she almost added, but she had never been close to him and it didn’t feel right to list his death with the passing of her parents.</p><p>Rumplestiltskin fluttered his fingers, thinking over what he had learned.</p><p>“And now you’ve promised away their first grandchild,” he reminded.</p><p>She met his eyes. “They wouldn’t have a grandchild at all, if not for our deal.”</p><p>“Not for want of suitors, I’m sure.”</p><p>His crossed leg brushed against hers, and Belle nudged him back, gripping her book a little tighter.</p><p>“I have no need of suitors now, do I?”</p><p>When they finally arrived, some two hours later, Rumplestiltskin was the first to leave the carriage. He jumped down without using the steps, shooed away the man who had been sent to help the Lady Belle down, and offered her his own hand. She accepted it, but he didn’t release her once she was by his side. He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, curled his surprisingly smooth fingers around hers to hold her hand in place, and walked on.</p><p>If anything was going to show the whole royal court, and every noble in the kingdom, that she was indeed engaged to the Dark One, it was walking in on his arm.</p><hr/><p>The wedding service itself was a drawn out affair of pageantry and splendour. Belle had been to noble weddings before, they were grand and frivolous and long-winded, but the royal wedding was a burst of colours and jewels and longer still.</p><p>The Dark One had surprised her by agreeing to accompany her at all. In the short few moments she’d spent with him, he hadn’t once kept still. Even in the carriage, the moment when he had seemed to calm and allowed himself to be distracted from his fidgeting, she could see his mind racing. If the wedding ceremony itself was tedious for Belle, she dreaded to think how impatient it had made Rumplestiltskin.</p><p>Especially with all the people who had turned to stare at them, or who had refused to sit beside either herself or him.</p><p>Belle hadn’t minded that at all. The fewer people they spoke to, the lower the chance of their deal being discovered.</p><p>The feast and dance that followed were much more agreeable. People were in higher spirits, and not quite so serious once the vows were out of the way.</p><p>Rumplestiltskin disappeared before the feasting began, and Belle let him go. It gave her a moment to breath, to feel herself being lost in the crowd. When the dancing began, it was almost too easy to forget the past months, and to allow herself just a moment of distraction. She danced with the crowd, searching the hall for the Dark One as the dancers turned around her.</p><p>The prince joined her, dressed in silver and ivory. She had heard nothing but unfavourable things about King George’s son, but he greeted her with a pleasant smile and a civil bow.</p><p>“Do you think the ogres are gone for good?” he asked.</p><p>“I should think so,” she answered. It was ridiculous to think that ogres might be so predictable, but being in contact with Rumplestiltskin made her feel a certain level of protection.</p><p>Belle wondered, as the dancers switched and the princess took her hand, if he hid in the shadows, watching her. The princess’ dress was as elaborate as her husband’s; all frosted silk and a skirt of snow white feathers.</p><p>“We are all glad to see Avonlea safe again,” said the princess. “Is that why you brought <em> him</em>?”</p><p>Belle smiled brittlely. “The Dark One didn’t help Avonlea.”</p><p>No matter how desperately she wanted to forget the last months, she couldn’t. And she couldn’t forget why she was there. Her partner was missing and their deal was going unfulfilled.</p><p>Slipping away, as the guests and new royal couple danced and celebrated, Belle escaped into the corridor. The heavy hall doors muffled the music and laughter inside. Other than the guards dotted at intervals down the hall, Belle felt quite alone away from the warmly lit ball with its cheer and smiling faces. She wrapped her arms around herself and retreated from the door. The further away from the faint music she could get, the better.</p><p>“It’s unwise to wander the halls alone, dearie,” Rumplestiltskin spoke in her ear. Belle whirled around and he giggled. “This is an awfully large castle,” he tutted. “What if you were to get lost?”</p><p>“Then I’m sure you would come and find me. How else would I fulfil my end of our deal?”</p><p>Rumplestiltskin waved a hand and pressed it against his chest.</p><p>“I’m sure you might run into some handsome guest who would be willing to oblige.” His large, strange eyes looked away from her, and he rubbed his fingers together. “More than willing.”</p><p>Belle frowned and shook her head, confused and curious. “What do you mean?”</p><p>He didn’t answer. She waited, glancing at the guards stationed down the hall. They gave no indication that they could hear them. Voices carried in long, stone corridors, but Rumple and she only spoke in hushed tones. It couldn’t be the unease of being overheard that kept him quiet.</p><p>Belle sighed through her nose.</p><p>“We should return to the celebrations.” she said.</p><p>“<em>We</em>?” he repeatedly, wrinkling his nose.</p><p>Belle clenched her fists and took a deep breath.</p><p>“Yes, <em> we</em>,” she said calmly. “Or are you already forgetting why you accompanied me here?”</p><p>The line between his brows deepened. Pressing his lips into a line, Rumplestiltskin looked away from her thoughtfully. It couldn’t be common for anyone to speak to him without desperation or fear. He didn’t appear to know what to do with her.</p><p>“You want to make it… <em> authentic</em>,” he said, twirling his hand flippantly, “this engagement of ours.”</p><p>Belle nodded, and when he only continued to watch her expectantly, she sighed. Nothing came for free with him. She knew that already. She’d read enough about him to know that, even if so much about him seldom made sense.</p><p>“What do you want in return?” she asked.</p><p>He took a step forward, a faint, wicked smile on his lips.</p><p>“Oh, only a small thing,” he said.</p><p>“I only have one firstborn to give,” she reminded him dryly. Rumplestiltskin laughed, childish and pleased with himself.</p><p>“I want nothing so serious as that,” he mused, his accent thickening. “Just your favour. I want that pretty ribbon in your hair,” he explained, moving forward to brush her braid with the back of his fingers. “Do we have a deal?”</p><p>Belle searched his face; the calculated glint in his strange eyes; the way he stroked her hair.</p><p>“Is that all?” she asked.</p><p>A smirk crept across his lips, and he leaned closer to breathe in her ear. “I could ask for more.”</p><p>Releasing a shuddering breath, Belle reached up and unfastened her hair.</p><p>“I suppose we have a deal,” she said. The ribbon slid free of her braid, and her fair fell around her shoulders in loose waves. “Now, can we leave?”</p><p>Rumplestiltskin plucked the green ribbon from her hand. He twisted it between his fingers, testing the softness of it, before deciding that her payment was sufficient. The ribbon disappeared in a swirl of red smoke, and he grinned.</p><p>“Not yet. You wanted me to show everyone that we’re... together.” He ran his clawed fingers through her loose hair, and brushed it from her shoulders. “Pretty little Belle,” he added in a low, deep murmur. “How alarmed they would be to find us together.”</p><p>She froze, not out of fear, but surprise. She tried to steady her breath, but it became impossible with his hands touching her head and smoothing over her back. He dipped down, and Belle tipped her head back without thought, welcoming the soft kiss he pressed to her lips.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Word travelled fast in the Enchanted Forest. Whether by gossip or dove or raven, it took less than a week for everyone to know what had happened at the royal wedding. She had been caught with the Dark One embracing her, kissing her, and that was that.</p><p>Belle couldn’t decide how she felt about the whole thing. She felt something when she thought of the response of others. She felt frustration, she felt insulted, but she didn’t share their disgust or shock. That was where her feelings differed. They confused her. She didn’t feel as everyone thought she should, because of the simple fact that she felt so much. The concern shouldn’t have upset her. The kiss shouldn’t have excited her.</p><p>Sitting at her vanity, Belle waited while Jenny brushed her hair.</p><p>If anyone had any doubts before, they now knew with certainty that she belonged to the Dark One. He had fulfilled his side of the bargain, and her thoughts slowly drifted from her confused excitement to her side of their deal. She had to give him what he wanted in return. That would finalise the deal and settle things for everyone. She would have his child and then he would leave and take the baby with him.</p><p>She’d be ruined, but at least she wouldn’t be forced to marry someone she didn’t want.</p><p>Jenny tied her hair with a white ribbon. She hadn’t said anything about the wedding while she dressed Belle. She hadn’t given her any pitying smiles, only awkward ones, and she hadn’t asked what had happened to Belle’s green ribbon. Which was just as well. She had no idea what Rumplestiltskin had done with it.</p><p>Thanking her maid, Belle rose from the vanity to start her day. There were still matters that needed attending to outside of talk of her securing a marriage. Avonlea might have been safe now, but it was far from being what it once was. Homes needed to be rebuilt. Neighbouring towns and kingdoms needed to be reassured that they were safe to trade with again.</p><p>Jenny carried away her nightgown to be washed, and left Belle alone. She collected together the scrolls and books from her desk. They put her in mind of all the research she’d done to prepare herself for Rumplestiltskin, and still he’d somehow bested her. Now she was in his debt.</p><p>“Busy, are we?” he asked behind her.</p><p>Belle turned, and found Rumplestiltskin standing in the doorway Jenny had just left through. His clothes were different to those he’d worn for the wedding. They were darker, with deep brown hide on his coat and burgundy frills on his cuffs. His general appearance, despite the darker colours warning those around him to stay away, seemed softer than usual. He wore no spiked broach or sharp points. Just his usual high-collared jacket and ridiculous boots.</p><p>He couldn’t have used the stairs to get to her room. He would have been seen. She would have heard him enter. It wasn’t lost on her that he deliberately crept up on her, likely hoping to make her jump. It gave her an odd sense of satisfaction knowing that he’d failed. The only greeting his tricks earned him was a firm scowl.</p><p>“Where have you been?” she asked, almost like an accusation.</p><p>His mouth dropped open, feigning shock at her tone.</p><p>“I?” he asked coyly, pressing a hand to his chest. “I had other matters to attend to. I can’t spend all my days fawning after you, dear lady.”</p><p>Belle scoffed. “Other <em> deals</em>, you mean.”</p><p>He grinned slyly, pointing at her with a clawed finger.</p><p>“Precisely.”</p><p>“Hm.” Setting down her books, Belle crossed the room to him. He straightened his back as she drew nearer, and kept his hand held up between them.</p><p>Her heart began to thrum, but the sooner they discussed the logistics and intimacy of their deal, the better.</p><p>“Now that you’re here,” she said, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “We can discuss <em> our </em> deal.”</p><p>He laughed. His sudden appearances couldn’t make her jump, but those sudden and impish laughs could. Delight twinkled in his eyes and stretched his lips, and Belle did her best not to scowl at him further. It would only amuse him more.</p><p>“Are you so eager to have a child and give it away?” he taunted. Belle rolled her eyes.</p><p>“I won’t be giving the child away. They’ll be with their father.”</p><p>His smile slipped. “You’re to give the child to <em> me</em>.”</p><p>“Yes, I know,” Belle told him patiently, slowly. Whatever misunderstanding hung between them made him frown as though it were her fault.</p><p>“Not the father,” he added.</p><p>She frowned in return, trying to make sense of it all and see what it was she had missed. She’d been so certain. She’d read all she could about him. How could she have misunderstood their deal? </p><p>“You said you wanted a child,” she reasoned.</p><p>“I do. <em> Yours</em>,” Rumplestiltskin answered. Belle didn’t respond, or flinch, or look away. After a moment, while they only stared at one another, a slow realisation came over both of them. It sparked in his unusual eyes and parted her lips in soft surprise. His gaze flicked down to her stomach, over her body, and Belle tried to steady her breathing.</p><p>“You thought I wanted you to carry <em> my </em>child?” he asked at last. Belle nodded, a warmth spreading through her cheek, and he leaned forward, searching her eyes. “Why would you agree to that?”</p><p>She shook her head, casting her eyes down, but no amount of head shaking or blushing could give her the answer he wanted. She didn’t know the answer herself. Belle hadn’t questioned the idea of being <em> with </em> him. If he was to pretend to be her betrothed -- her <em> lover </em> -- then having a child with him had made sense in the moment.</p><p>“Did you think I would use magic to make it so?” Rumplestiltskin pressed, moving closer with his fingers bent like claws. “Did you think I wouldn’t want you, that I wouldn’t take you?” He grasped her jaw, but even in his growling and warning, he held her carefully. “Or did you want a monster in your bed?”</p><p>Her breath caught. The tips of their noses almost touched, <em> almost</em>, and Belle wanted him to close that gap. She found herself leaning forward, leaning into his hand clasping her jaw, but she couldn’t move any further forward to touch him more. He held her still, unaware of how badly she wanted to nod and say ‘<em>yes</em>’.</p><p>“You don’t frighten me,” she whispered hoarsely.</p><p>“No?” he mocked. “Not even now?”</p><p>Belle swallowed and licked her lips. “No.”</p><p>He released her sharply. Whatever he’d been hoping to find in her answer, or had sought out in her face, displeased him. Both of them stepped back. The unusual intimacy that had fallen over them shattered. Belle put her hand to her cheek and hoped she wasn’t as flushed red as she felt. Rumplestiltskin didn’t seem to notice. He looked away, clenching his jaw in thought and rubbing his fingers together; the same fingers that had gripped her face.</p><p>She wondered if he realised he was doing it.</p><p>“Very well,” Rumplestiltskin said, bringing back his impish smile. “We can discuss our deal.”</p><p>Taking her shoulder, he pulled Belle to him. She only had but a moment to react to his touch, to hold him in return, before swirling clouds of magic encircled them both. The room around them disappeared behind dark red, and cleared again to reveal somewhere entirely different. Her bedroom, the four-poster bed and her book-covered desk, had gone. In its place stood a grand room, grander than any of the rooms in Avonlea’s castle.</p><p>Rumplestiltskin held her up with firm hands on her waist; firm hands that left her the moment she was able to stand by herself.</p><p>Flexing his fingers, he hurried to move away from her, into what she realised was some sort of great hall. She didn’t recognise it. Few castles around Avonlea could afford such rich tapestries and gold detailing. A long table sat in the centre of the room, in front of an unlit fire. If it had been lit, it might have shed more light about the place, and some warmth. The heavy drapes over the windows made the room dark and cold, despite its grandness and lovely colours.</p><p>“I propose a new deal,” Rumple declared, pulling her attention back to him. He strolled to the lone chair at the head of the long table, and Belle, worrying her hands together in front of her stomach, followed him.</p><p>“I will help you with…” he waved a hand, “whatever it is your little town needs mending,” he offered, sitting in his seat in one grand, sweeping motion. “Rebuilding. Fortifying. Whichever you need.”</p><p>She came to a stop just a few short steps from where he sat, and he looked up at her from behind tented fingertips, his elbows on the table.</p><p>“And in return?” she prompted.</p><p>“In return...” He shrugged and pulled a thoughtful face, as if he didn’t already know what he wanted from her. “In return, you will have <em> my </em> child.”</p><p>Belle frowned, and it amused him all the more.</p><p>“But that was the deal I already made,” she reminded him.</p><p>Their eyes met, and Belle pressed her lips into a line. She wouldn’t say anything further until he explained himself. His eyes twinkled, and Belle narrowed her own. She wasn’t as prepared for him as she’d thought.</p><p>“You dealt for me to take the bairn away and raise it myself,” he corrected at length.</p><p>Belle scoffed. “I thought you <em> wanted </em> to take the child away.”</p><p>He smiled, wrinkling his nose and showing his teeth.</p><p>“Now why would I do that?”</p><p>Belle rolled her eyes, not for the first time, and turned away from him. He was impossible to deal with when all he wanted to do was poke at her. There had to be a reason he’d taken her away. He couldn’t have taken her to a new castle only to renegotiate their deal.</p><p>“Is this your home?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject. If he wanted to throw her off with a strange castle and a show of his magic, then she would distract him in return.</p><p>Rumple inclined his head, slow and cautious.</p><p>“This is the Dark Castle,” he said carefully, not really answering her question.</p><p>She looked around her, slowly stepping behind his chair as she took in the pedestals with their unusual displays, and the cabinet filled to the highest shelf with <em> things</em>. To the side, by the wall with the curtained windows, sat a single spinning wheel. The basket beside it held no wool, nor did the wheel itself, but something yellow glinted from the bottom of the wicker.</p><p>Belle didn’t know the significance of any of the items in that room, but they had to be important for him to have collected them and placed them on display.</p><p>Brushing her hand along the back of Rumplestiltskin’s chair, Belle turned to face him and smiled. He watched her shrewdly, wary of her closeness and wary of her smile, and probably wary of her hand on his chair.</p><p>Her smile only brightened.</p><p>“Why did you bring me here?” she asked.</p><p>He waved a flippant hand. “I have no wish to be overheard.”</p><p>That didn’t sound right. No one would eavesdrop on her bedchamber. Her maid had only just left when he arrived. Nobody knew he was there. Nobody would know there was anything to overhear.</p><p>No, he had taken her there for a different reason; one he wasn’t willing to share.</p><p>Sidestepping his seat, Belle kept her bright smile in place and held her hands behind her back.</p><p>“Will you show me around?” she asked.</p><p>Their eyes met, and Belle lifted her chin against the urge to take back her request. This was his home. It would be rude to ask anyone else to show her around their home. But this was <em> him</em>, and he didn’t seem to mind the request. If anything, he only seemed amused. She wasn’t sure why.</p><p>Rising from his seat, Rumplestiltskin stood in front of her and smiled.</p><p>“And what will you show me in return?” he asked. Belle’s surprise flashed in her eyes, and his smile widened. “You can’t expect to see my home for nothing,” he chuckled. “What will you give me in return?”</p><p>He spoke so plainly, as if he was the only one of them being reasonable, but the mischief in his eyes told her that she’d given him exactly the reaction he’d wanted. <em> Shock</em>.</p><p>Belle shook her head.</p><p>“What do you want?” she asked.</p><p>Humming in thought, Rumple stepped forward and leaned into her ear.</p><p>“I can think of several things,” he crooned, slipping his arm around her waist. “But this will do.” </p><p>Lifting his hand, Rumple produced the comb from her vanity. The ornate handle winked at her in the light, mocking the disappointed flush fading from her cheeks.</p><p>Belle shook her head, and knew her answering question was ridiculous before she even spoke it.</p><p>“Where did you get that?”</p><p>“Your room, of course,” he answered, amused and grinning and holding the ivory comb pinched between his thumb and forefinger. “Do we have a deal?</p><p>She narrowed her eyes. “What do you want with my comb?”</p><p>His eyes widened, and he couldn’t have looked any further from the innocent, benevolent imp he was trying to appear. He was up to something.</p><p>“Would you rather I ask for something more?” Rumplestiltskin quizzed, and just like that, the innocence disappeared. His eyes darkened, and the slow curve of his lips made her suck in a breath.</p><p>“No,” Belle said quickly. “You can take the comb, in exchange for showing me around your home.”</p><p>“Deal,“ he agreed just as quickly, before she had a chance to rethink and back out.</p><p>Dropping the comb and letting it disappear in a puff of magic, Rumple waved his hand towards the grand doors at the end of the hall. Ever the showman. Belle hesitated, if only to be sure he knew she was suspicious of him, but he just smiled and nodded towards the doors.</p><p>“My lady.” Her title was uttered with only a hint of mockery, but something else lingered just beneath the surface. It wasn’t the title itself that made her pause. It wasn’t the title that he emphasised. It was the first part.</p><p>She walked ahead of him, hoping to hide any reaction to his use of her title. He didn’t strike her as the sort of man who cared at all for titles. He certainly hadn’t at the royal wedding.</p><p>The grand doors swept open as she approached them, welcoming her into what appeared to be an entrance with a round table in the centre. Belle came to a stop before it, but a hand tapped her right shoulder and distracted her. She turned, and he wasn’t there.</p><p>“This way,” Rumple said, his voice laced with amusement.</p><p>Frowning, she turned to her left instead, and found him waiting for her at the foot of a staircase. She wouldn’t rise to his silly antics, but even her scowl was enough to make him laugh. She let herself smile instead, and his own smile faltered.</p><p>
  <em> Silly man. </em>
</p><p>“You go first,” Belle said lightly.</p><p>“So suspicious,” he tutted, then sighed dramatically. “Very well.”</p><p>Belle waited for him to walk up the first few steps before she followed after him.</p><p><em> My </em> lady, he’d said. </p><p>Was she his? She supposed she would be, in order to fulfil their deal, but that would also make him <em> hers</em>.</p><p>Belle looked to him as he led her up the stairs, around the corner. She looked at the way his waved hair fell over his sharp collar; the way his fingers never seemed to stay still at his sides; the way he moved in those trousers.</p><p>Smiling, Belle lifted her eyes ahead of her, to where he guided her across to a high window.</p><p><em> Yes</em>, she thought, deliberately avoiding his eye. For all his childish jokes and hidden schemes, she could imagine him being hers.</p><p>“This is where we are,” he informed her, standing at the edge of the window. It’s height ran from floor to ceiling, and curved into a point at the top. Belle looked up and up, to the green and red stained glass in the shape of roses, before she even thought to look outside of the window itself.</p><p>The outside world was nothing at all as she’d imagined. She’d pictured him living somewhere secluded, that much was true, but she hadn’t thought there would be mountains and snow. Crisp, pure white snow coated the entirety of the castle’s garden, dusted the tops of the high walls, and disappeared off into the mountains. The horizon and sky were both so white, blurred by a blizzard in the distance, that she had no way of knowing where they really were, or how high up they were.</p><p>“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.</p><p>“<em>Beautiful</em>?” Rumple repeated, pulling her back into the warmth of the castle.</p><p>Belle nodded, a bright smile blooming on her face.</p><p>“We haven’t had snow like this in Avonlea since…” Her smile dimmed. “Since before the ogres came.”</p><p>Her eyes dropped to the covered garden outside. Bushes, dark and stripped of their leaves, peeked out from along the edge of what appeared to be a path. The shape of a bench curved the snow at the end of the path, and Belle sighed, imagining how lovely it would be to sit there in the spring.</p><p>“This isn’t the Marchlands,” Rumple told her gently, coming to stand at her side. “We’re on the edge of many kingdoms here.”</p><p>Belle turned to him. She watched his face change into something soft, almost apologetic, and reached for his hand without thinking.</p><p>“High up in the mountains,” she added. “Where you have no need to answer to any bickering monarchs or warring nobles.”</p><p>A smile flicked at his lips. “Indeed not.”</p><p>It was odd seeing a smile on his face that wasn’t brimming with mirth and mischief. Belle tried to capture it in her mind. A soft smile like that had to be a real smile. It made her wonder why he bothered at all with all his tricks and teasing. Why pretend to be happy if he didn’t feel it?</p><p>Holding onto the image of that fleeting smile, Belle looked out of the window.</p><p>“Tell me more about our new deal,” she said.</p><p>Silence followed. She didn’t dare take her eyes from the window again. Part of her feared that she’d pushed him too far. He could rescind any possible change to their deal. He wouldn’t be <em> hers </em> then. But then he spoke, and his thumb gently rubbed the back of her hand.</p><p>“You will have my child,” he said slowly, in a deeper tone that she hadn’t heard before. “And you will raise it.”</p><p>Belle nodded, willing the words to sink in. They wouldn’t. They hung in the air between them. She knew what he was really offering. He was offering her the chance to keep her own child. He wouldn’t take it away, even if it was his own.</p><p>“Why did you ask for a child?” she whispered, and she already knew in the pit of her stomach that she wouldn’t get a reply. The words lingered between them in the silence, and the weight of sadness sank in her chest.</p><p>She turned to him, mustering up a smile at the unspoken escape he offered her, and nodded.</p><p>“I’ll accept your new terms,” Belle said, and finally made him look at her. “If you’ll finish the tour you promised me.”</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you Maplesyrup for beta reading, and to everyone for commenting last time. This fic was nominated for Best Dark Castle in this year's TEAs, and I’d be really grateful if you’d consider voting for it. I also got nominated for Best Author and the Lifetime Achievement Award, if you’d like to vote for me on them too 🖤</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The start of winter meant fewer visits from neighbouring lords. That was partially true, but it was also her dalliance with Rumplestiltskin that kept them away. She had no more requests to meet from potential suitors. All of her correspondences had turned towards rebuilding Avonlea, until the snow began to fall.</p><p>Sitting beside the library window, Belle looked out over the white gardens. Her books normally held her attention well, too well sometimes, but on that day she struggled to focus on her stories. Her work was the same. Her mind kept drifting to the gently falling snow, and the damaged town beyond the castle walls. She thought of another similar scene; a grander castle with a snow-covered garden of its own. Avonlea’s garden had been disturbed by the footprints of castle workers, and small birds and rabbits in search of food. His garden had been crisp and untouched, and empty.</p><p>She sighed and set her book down. What she really wanted to read, the only thing that had held her attention that week, were her manuscripts on the Dark One.</p><p>One question above all the many she had, was the one thing he wouldn’t answer. <em> Why </em> had he dealt with her? And to take it further, <em> why </em> had he dealt for her child? </p><p>She shuffled through her books, rereading pages she had marked out with bits of ribbon and worn leather bookmarks. None of them offered her anything she didn’t already know.</p><p>Perhaps Rumplestiltskin asked people for the thing they would be most unwilling to give. It made sense in the case of their first deal, but not their second or third. A ribbon or comb couldn’t have been as valuable as a baby. And through it all, Belle had never asked him for anything magical. She hadn’t called him because he was her last resort; the only one able to remedy her problem. No. She had called on him out of curiosity, and regret. She called for him because she wanted to know if she really could have saved her parents from the ogres. </p><p>Perhaps part of her restlessness was because of the answer she’d found. The Dark One certainly could have saved them, if only her father had agreed to her plan.</p><p>Now she called on him for the smallest of things, and he appeared every time. He had to realise that the things she asked for didn’t require magic of any sort.</p><p>“My lady?”</p><p>Belle looked up. Her steward stood in the library doorway, with his back stiff and straight, and a pained look barely concealed on his aged face. Claude was one of the few who treated her as the lady she was now, and not simply their former lord’s daughter.</p><p>“Are you well, Claude?” Belle asked.</p><p>“There’s, ah--” He cleared his throat. “Someone is waiting for you in the yard, my lady.”</p><p>Belle glanced to the window, as if part of her expected the snow to suddenly be gone. Few people would bother to venture out into such conditions in carriage or on horseback.</p><p>“In the yard?” she echoed, rising from her seat. “Who?”</p><p>Forgetting her books, Belle left the library and made her way down the hall. Claude followed her all the way. He wouldn’t answer her question, but there could be only one visitor who would arrive during snowfall; someone whose name no one dared to speak.</p><p>Her steps grew a little quicker. Her curious smile became a little brighter. She pushed aside the castle doors, forgetting that she wore only a simple dress and shawl. The pale blue cotton and wool were enough for sitting inside by the fire, but the cold bit into her skin the moment she stepped outside. And no one was even there to greet her.</p><p>Belle looked to her steward for an explanation. He looked just as confused as she felt, but he also appeared to be feeling unwell, and Belle took pity on him.</p><p>“Thank you,” she said with a smile. “Perhaps you could ask someone to make tea?”</p><p>Grasping at the offered escape, Claude bowed and hurried back into the castle.</p><p>Belle looked around the yard, careful to note every corner and doorway. There were many places he might be hiding. There were the kennels or the stables, or the training yard which was so seldom used since the war. So few soldiers had returned.</p><p>Shaking herself from those thoughts, she stepped further out into the falling snow. Carts and hurried footsteps had churned the snow to grey sludge. The flakes falling around her were the only white left. They fell from the cloudy sky and stuck to her hair and cheeks. Her skin tingled with their icy touch, but still she left the castle doors behind and searched for him through the yard.</p><p>“Peculiar weather for a stroll,” he said behind her. “Does her ladyship not own a cloak?”</p><p>Belle didn’t jump or flinch. She never needed to. Pressing her lips together to hold back her smile, she turned to him and narrowed her eyes. Just like her, he wasn’t dressed for the cold weather. Unlike her, he didn’t seem to feel the snow melting into his clothes.</p><p>“Her ladyship was sitting by the fire when you arrived,” she informed him, and he gasped.</p><p>“My, my. We do sound busy.” He closed the space between them in one long step. “So rushed off our feet.”</p><p>Belle rolled her eyes.</p><p>“Why are you here?” she couldn’t help but ask. “Why didn’t you appear to me in my bedchamber?”</p><p>He made a face, baring his teeth and wrinkling his nose.</p><p>“I would hate to be predictable,” he said.</p><p>She laughed. The sound came as a surprise to both of them, but while Belle closed her mouth to stop herself, Rumplestiltskin slowly smiled in return. He was <em> pleased </em> with himself, she realised. He hadn’t wanted to tease her to upset her. He’d wanted to make her laugh. His eyes, made darker by the grey weather, dropped to her mouth. She shivered, and his smile fell.</p><p>“Are you cold?” he asked, leaning away from her.</p><p>Belle only had to nod for him to help her. No ultimatum was given. No deal was offered. Rumple lifted his hands without asking for a thing from her, snapped his fingers, and a comfortable weight settled on her shoulders.</p><p>Bewildered, she looked down to see a long, green cloak wrapped around her; the same green as the ribbon he’d taken. It had slits for her arms, an ornate silver clasp, and a hood which sat delicately on top of her head. It was very fine work. She would have to go to an exceptional tailor to have a cloak of that colour and shape made for her. And Rumplestiltskin had created it with magic, without asking for anything in return at all.</p><p>“This is…” Shaking her head in disbelief, Belle looked up and smiled at him. “Thank you.”</p><p>Rumplestiltskin dismissed this with a wave of his hand, then held the same hand out to her. “Shall we?”</p><p>“Where are we going?” she asked, taking his hand before she had her answer.</p><p>Magic encircled them. The air crackled with it, and with its red cloud twirling around them, it carried them away from Avonlea.</p><p>Belle gripped his hand tight and closed her eyes. She should have known not to expect a simple answer from him. He would much prefer to show her than give her an answer.</p><p>She didn’t open her eyes until the magic cleared, and the warmth of a fire hit her back. They were in the great hall. <em> His </em> great hall. It looked much the same as it had on her first visit, but the heavy drapes had been pulled aside from the windows. They were much taller than she’d expected them to be. The tops of them almost touched the ceiling, and revealed the snowfall outside. The snow fell heavier than it did in Avonlea. Great flakes of it whispered through the air and coated the windowpanes.</p><p>Behind her, a fire roared in the hearth and removed the chill that had pricked at her skin. Rumple released her hand without a word of explanation.</p><p>“I asked Claude to fetch us some tea,” she recalled, but it seemed a silly thing to say. He couldn’t have known she had intended for them to stay in her own castle. But he <em> should </em> have known to ask before whisking her away.</p><p>“I have tea here,” he explained, his body no longer facing her, but the glowing fire beside them.</p><p>“That isn’t the point, Rumple.”</p><p>He paused. Belle didn’t know why, she didn’t notice herself what she’d said until he slowly turned to look at her. Her cheeks flushed from more than the cold. She hadn’t used his name since the first night she’d called for him. She certainly hadn’t ever meant to give him a nickname.</p><p>Thankfully, he didn’t tease her. He didn’t mention it at all. Without so much as an amused smile, he turned to her and lifted a hand to her cheek. His fingers brushed her skin with the slightest of touches, and Belle held her breath.</p><p>“Are you warming up?” he asked quietly.</p><p>She nodded before she was able to find her voice again.</p><p>“I am,” she answered, dropping her eyes to the fire. “Thank you.”</p><p>He took his hand away. “Would you like tea?”</p><p>A small smile flickered across her lips, and she found an answering smile on his face when she looked at him.</p><p>“Yes, please,” Belle said.</p><p>Setting her up in front of the fire, Rumple slid his chair across to the hearth with a flick of his wrist. It was still the only chair in the room, not counting the little stool beside a spinning wheel. She quietly wondered where he might sit, but he left before she could ask him. He always moved quickly; never able to sit still for more than a moment. Even his hands were always moving.</p><p>When he returned, carried in and out in seconds by his magic, he held a silver tea tray. Belle accepted it and sat it in her lap. He, or his magic, had filled the tray with two china cups, teapot, milk, and sugar pot; all in a simple white and blue pattern. Steam rose from the spout of the teapot, confirming her suspicion that the whole thing had been hurriedly prepared with magic.</p><p>She sighed.</p><p>Rumple didn’t say a word. He let her pour and prepare her own tea. His fingers twitched as if he <em> wanted </em> to do it for her, but something held him back.</p><p>“Why don’t you sit?” she asked.</p><p>He laughed, a sudden and childish chuckle.</p><p>“You’re sitting in the only chair here, dearie. If I sat down, where would you sit?” His tone dropped lower, deeper, as if hinting at something lascivious. Should they sit together in the chair? Would she like to sit in his lap?</p><p>Belle paused, midway through pouring his tea, and almost spilled it onto the tray. He slowly crouched in front of her. His leather creaked with each slight move, until he knelt at her eye level, and placed his hand on her knee. A heat, which had nothing to do with the fire, began to burn in her cheeks. Silently, because she didn’t trust her voice, she offered him the teapot and he took it from her. Their fingers brushed. She almost didn’t want to take her hands away. Their eyes met, and she quickly put her hands in her lap, blushing more furiously than before.</p><p>She didn’t see his reaction, and she didn’t want to.</p><p>How could they possibly fulfil their deal if she blushed and shied away every time he came near. He loved to tease her, but there was also some sort of test there. One she couldn’t understand. It was almost as if he <em> wanted </em> her to pull away. But Belle was impulsive and curious and true to her word. She was also stubborn. She wouldn’t pull away. A child had been promised, and a child they would have.</p><p>“How will you know when our deal is fulfilled?” she asked, turning her eyes to the fire.</p><p>Rumple didn’t answer immediately. He remained quiet, knelt in front of her, and plopped two sugars into each teacup. The sound was almost funny, placed after such a serious question and with an odd tension building in the air.</p><p>“There will be a baby,” he said at last.</p><p>Belle glanced back at him, but his focus was held by their tea.</p><p>“I mean…” she tried again, worrying her hands together in her lap. “How will we know when there is going to be a baby?”</p><p>Again, it took him a moment to respond. He paused, gently set down the teapot, and offered her one of the teacups. She took it quietly, hoping that he would reply if she gave him enough time. He removed the tea service from her lap, without touching his own cup, and set it on the hearth to keep warm.</p><p>Then, to Belle’s surprise, he stood.</p><p>“Where are you going?” she asked, setting her tea back onto the tray.</p><p>“Fear not. I have just the thing to set your mind at ease.” His teasing, showman tone had returned. He sounded almost jovial, and waved his hand back to her, as he made his way across to the spinning wheel.</p><p>Belle watched him keenly. Her heart beat a little faster. She couldn’t say why, he used magic  so frequently, but this was something special. This was to be something to aid her in their deal.</p><p>He bent over the basket beside his wheel, and plucked out something that was definitely not wool. His fingers instead pinched a string of gold like a fine chain. With his other hand, he produced her comb in a puff of magic. Belle hadn’t expected to see it again, but at least now she knew why he had wanted it. He wrapped the gold string around the body of the comb, weaving it between the narrow teeth. The air hummed with magic. Belle held her breath as the gold began to glow, and sank into the ivory-coloured comb.</p><p>Holding it up to her with a smile, Rumple strolled back to her and held it out for her to take.</p><p>“Brush your hair with this,” he explained, kneeling before her again. “If you are with child, it will glow. If not…”</p><p>He made a face that Belle couldn’t decipher. It was something similar to concern, and far too close to apologetic.</p><p>“We’ll try again,” she finished.</p><p>They looked at one another; Belle in surprise at her own forwardness, and him in surprise that she would <em> want </em> to try more than once.</p><p>There was an unspoken element to their deal; something they had agreed would happen without voicing the words. They hinted at it now, but still neither of them could say what would happen to make the comb glow. Instead, Rumple put his hand lightly to her cheek, and Belle leaned forward to kiss him. </p><p>The tension broke. Words didn’t need to be said when a kiss could speak for them; or a gasp; or a touch. Both of them, fumbling and desperate, began to pull at one another’s clothes. Rumple unclasped her cloak, pushing it aside, and Belle’s trembling hands unbuttoned his waistcoat. Their closeness, their excitement and nerves, all made it awkward to remove much more than that. Belle slipped her arms free of the cloak, and gripped his shoulders as he rucked up the skirt of her dress.</p><p>Everything moved quickly; much quicker than she’d thought a first time would be. All of her books had made the act sound tender and slow and sweet. This was fast, but it made her stomach flip and her heart race, and she didn’t want to slow down.</p><p>Kneeling between her legs, Rumple grasped her hips and yanked her to the edge of the chair. She wrapped her legs around him. The response came instinctively, and made him groan into their kiss. Belle copied him, repeating the low hum with one of her own, and smiled when his fingers dug into her. She took it as an invitation to do more, and began to tug at the laces of his trousers.</p><p>Rumple grasped her wrists, stopping her.</p><p>“Not like this,” he said in a tone that wasn’t his own. It was too deep and rough to be his own.</p><p>Belle watched him, confused, as he stared at her hands. His thumbs gently rubbed her wrists, and a chill began to settle around her; the chill of reality and the loss of his eager touches.</p><p>“Rumple?”</p><p>“Let’s make a new deal,” he offered, his trickster’s grin returning. “Perhaps you have--.”</p><p>“No,” she interrupted, twisting her hands free. She put them in his own and pulled him closer. “I’m very happy with our deal the way it is.”</p><p>He looked at her sharply, searching her face for any sign of deceit. It was difficult to hold his gaze and keep her hands still when he leaned so close. All she wanted to do was kiss him again. But she saw the moment he relaxed, his grip on her hands tightened just slightly, and her heart beat a little faster.</p><p>“As you wish,” he said calmly, leaning away. The cold returned. “But I have taken up enough of her ladyship’s time.”</p><p>“Rumple--”</p><p>He stood up, waving a hand at her protests.</p><p>“I shall return you to your tower,” he said. “And you can rethink my offer.”</p><p>Frowning, Belle shoved down her skirts and stood up, grasping her comb tightly. She was well aware that her dress had creased, someone was bound to notice she had returned from Rumplestiltskin’s care with wrinkled clothes, but she didn’t care. In that moment, her only care was for the ridiculous man keeping his back to her.</p><p>She walked around him and stepped between him and the fire, forcing him to look at her.</p><p>“You may take me home and give me time to rethink our deal,” she began, raising her chin in defiance. Rumple narrowed his eyes. “But even a hundred years of rethinking won’t make me change my mind.”</p><p>Without a word, he put his hand on her arm and returned her to her castle. He didn’t return with her. He had sent her away without a goodbye, and left her standing alone in the snow; without her cloak and with her crumpled dress. Belle did her best to smooth out the creases as she returned to the door.</p><p>Fresh snow had begun to settle over the grey sludge while she was gone. The hem of her dress dragged through the crisp fall, disturbing it. It turned the hem dark with the damp as it melted, and she wanted nothing more than to take it all off and crawl into bed.</p><p>“My lady?”</p><p>Belle looked up as she entered the castle. Claude greeted her from the stairs with the same discomfort as before; discomfort that had now mixed with distaste. It wasn’t for herself, Belle knew that, but knowing that the distaste was aimed at Rumple only made her feel worse.</p><p>“I took the liberty of leaving the tea in the library, my lady,” he explained, regaining himself and stepping down to greet her.</p><p>“Thank you, Claude,” Belle said, and he gave her a small smile.</p><p>“Will your guest not come inside?”</p><p>“No,” she said quietly, passing him to climb the stairs. “He will not.”</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jenny brushed her hair and Belle wanted to cry. It came as no surprise that the comb didn’t glow. That would have been impossible. It was just a painful reminder of the last time she had been with Rumplestiltskin. Before he sent her away. </p><p>He’d kept his promise to rebuild or replenish. Overnight, the western wall of Avonlea had been rebuilt. Not by the builders, nor any of the townsfolk, but with magic. It had simply appeared overnight, built just as it was before with turrets and portcullis.</p><p>More than a week had passed since then, and Belle began to wonder if he would contact her again at all. Or if that was that.</p><p>“Where did you find it?” Jenny asked, setting the comb down.</p><p>Belle blinked, and realised she was staring at her own reflection.</p><p>“It had slipped underneath the bed,” she said quietly. The lie came easily, but it wasn’t enough to take her mind off what had really happened to the comb.</p><p>Jenny hummed thoughtfully, as she pulled Belle’s hair back and braided it. </p><p>“Ah,” she said. “Perhaps I should check behind there for your missing ribbons.”</p><p>Belle dropped her eyes to the comb. She didn’t want to keep lying. So many people already knew of her unusual relationship with the Dark One, but none of them knew the true nature of it. They all thought it to be much more lewd than Rumple would ever allow it to be. He wasn’t what people thought.</p><p>“Rumplestiltskin has them,” she muttered, waiting as Jenny tied her hair with a yellow ribbon.</p><p>“I did wonder…” Jenny said after a moment, but her voice trailed off at the end. Many people wondered. Many people were wrong.</p><p>Leaving Belle to climb into bed by herself, she collected up Belle’s dress for that day and bid her goodnight. Belle stood from her vanity in only her nightgown, and made up her mind. She went to her wardrobe and chest, pulled out gloves and cloak and robe, and began to dress herself. She pulled the robe, made of a soft, blue cotton, over her nightgown. Long leather gloves which reached her elbows followed, and matching boots that laced up almost to her knees. Her nightgown was thin cotton and lace, but she didn’t have time to dress herself properly.</p><p>Slipping on her cloak, her own cloak in deep red and trimmed with white fur, Belle stood in the centre of her room and took a deep breath.</p><p>“Rumplestiltskin,” she called out. “Rumplestiltskin. Rumple--”</p><p>“Why are you yelling, dearie?” His voice behind her came as no surprise, but what did surprise her was the jovial note in his words. “Were you hoping to be heard in the next kingdom?”</p><p>Belle turned sharply, narrowing her eyes.</p><p>“I wanted to be in no doubt that <em> you </em> would hear me,” she said, only just stopping herself from jabbing a finger at his chest.</p><p>He deflated a little. His hands came up to the front of his chest, and his smile slipped.</p><p><em> Good</em>, Belle thought. Let him be uncertain about her, as she so often was about him.</p><p>“Me?” he asked then, splaying his hand across his chest.</p><p>“Yes, <em> you</em>,” she answered. “I want you to take me to your castle. Now.”</p><p>Rumplestiltskin tutted, his smile returning with a sickly wrinkle in his nose.</p><p>“So demanding,” he taunted, leaning towards her face, and offered his arm. “But if you insist.”</p><p>However unpredictable his mood, and however annoyed she was, Belle didn’t hesitate in accepting his offer. She slid her hand into the crook of his arm, and allowed him to carry them away to the Dark Castle. She knew what to expect now, when his magic circled them, to feel safe as it took her. She only held onto his arm a little tighter, just to be certain that her feet were planted firmly on the ground, before she released him.</p><p>A fire roared in the hearth of the great hall, throwing shadows and orange light across the walls. There were candelabras, but none of them were lit. Belle wondered if he’d been sitting in there alone when she called for him. She could almost picture him at his wheel, lost in thought, or sitting in the chair beside the fire, brooding. He didn’t say anything as she took the room in, but she found him watching her when she finally turned her attention his way.</p><p>He appeared guarded, with his hand held up and his thumb and forefinger rubbing together, and Belle couldn’t blame him for that. It was her who’d brought them together and told him to take her there. He couldn’t know what she wanted or intended to do.</p><p>Belle sighed, her shoulders sagging as some of her hurt left her.</p><p>“Why didn’t you come to me sooner?” she asked.</p><p>Confusion deepened his brow, but then that impish smile appeared and he held up a finger, as if he’d caught her somehow.</p><p>“Sooner?” he repeated, a mocking laugh in his voice. “I came before you’d called my name thrice, dearie. I can’t come much sooner than that.”</p><p>“Yes,” Belle said slowly, realising how odd that was. “You always answer me immediately. Or appear when you haven’t been called upon at all.” She stepped closer, and his eyes dropped to her boots. “Why is that?”</p><p>His smile faltered, just briefly enough for her to know she’d noticed something he’d thought she wouldn’t. She just wished she knew what that something was.</p><p>“I’m never one to miss out on a deal,” he said, but doubt had begun to creep around his smile, and his hands had lost their animation.</p><p>“But I’m not here to make a deal,” she reasoned.</p><p>He searched her face, and Belle searched his.</p><p>“What do you want?” The question came so quietly that she almost missed the depth of it; that sweet depth that was only ever there when he let the mask of the imp slip. It was the voice of Rumplestiltskin the man, not the creature he presented himself as.</p><p>Belle glanced around. She wasn’t sure what she wanted. A small voice in the back of her mind told her that was a lie -- she knew exactly what she wanted -- but knowing what she wanted, and actually getting it, were very different things.</p><p>Her eyes travelled across the fire, to the wild array of things he’d collected and put on display, and eventually landed on the tall windows. The drapes were still pulled back, but the world beyond was black. She could see nothing but the white of snow dusting the edges of the windowpanes, and the flakes slowly drifting down from the sky.</p><p>“I want to go outside,” she decided, looking back at him.</p><p>Rumple didn’t say a word. He didn’t seem to know what to say. So without a word of her own, Belle reached for his hand and led him towards the doors. She wished she could take the fire with them, too. The warmth of the great hall left her almost the moment they exited the doors. Cold seeped back in, from the stone walls and floor. None of the torches were lit along the way, and even the dark made her shiver, but she kept going.</p><p>Rumple had only shown her around once, weeks ago, but she vaguely remembered her way to where he’d said the kitchens were. He hadn’t taken her down those stairs, the ones she led him down now, but Belle knew castles. The kitchens always had a door which led outside.</p><p>She was rewarded with two doors at the end of the winding staircase, in a small corridor. The doorway to her left opened up into a generously-sized kitchen, but the dark prevented her from seeing much inside. From a window high in the wall, the moon peeked in a sliver of silver light across the cold stove. Belle kept walking to the door directly in front of the stairs, and tested the handle. Her breath misted in the air before she opened the door, and a sharp chill hit her the second it opened. Snow dusted in on the air and Belle stepped back as a built up drift tumbled across her feet.</p><p>She looked at Rumple apologetically, but he didn’t seem to care about the snow scattering his floor. He looked to her instead, frowning in confusion, and Belle gripped his hand a little tighter.</p><p>“It’s cold,” he said at least, his gaze skipping down to what she wore. He wouldn’t see much in the dark. Her whole body, small as it was, was entirely covered by her cloak, but his look still made her blush.</p><p>“I don’t mind the cold,” she assured him, lifting the front of her cloak.</p><p>Stepping out over the thick layer of snow, Belle wiggled her toes and tested just how cold it was. The frost of the snow reached up under her skirts, but her feet were snug, and her body and arms were protected just enough for her not to be too uncomfortable.</p><p>She walked out a little further, guiding Rumple along behind her. With her free hand, she lifted her hood over her hair and reached out to catch snowflakes in the palm of her glove. They lingered for a moment, before the warmth of her hand touched them and melted them.</p><p>“Do you ever come outside?” Belle asked, turning her attention back to the path ahead.</p><p>A thick blanket of snow covered everything, undisturbed and bright in the moonlight. They didn’t need a candle or torch to guide their way. The moon’s glow bounced off all the white surrounding them; off the snow and the castle walls themselves. The snow glittered as they moved, glistening on the ground and the bare trees and the buried bushes. Dried and dead vines twisted up the side of the castle, covering a row of lower windows. Even those had their own dusting of frost and ice. They twinkled, mimicking the stars overhead.</p><p>It took her a moment to realise that Rumple hadn’t answered her. She stopped and looked back at him, and tried not to smile too much when she saw the flakes of snow caught in his hair. It was entirely instinct that made her reach out, without giving it a second’s thought, to brush the snow from his hair. He stiffened and so did she, when she realised what she’d done. The leather of her gloves easily glided through his hair, turned damp by the snow, and she distantly thought about how soft it would be to touch.</p><p>She took her hand back before the thought could grow into something more, and turned from him. She walked further away, releasing his hand. The cold helped to hide the blush burning on her cheeks. Her cheeks flushed from the snow instead, and she pressed her fingers to them as she looked around. The icy air wasn’t uncomfortable, but she knew she’d want to collapse in front of the fire when they went back inside.</p><p>“I used to love playing in the snow,” she recalled, kicking at it with her boot. It clung to the hem of her cloak, and there was something freeing about not caring for the state of her clothes.</p><p>“Used to?” Rumple repeated, staying where he was.</p><p>“My governess didn’t like me staying out for too long. And then as I got older, my father thought I should focus on more important things. Playing like a child wasn’t very--” Something hit her back; something small but not unsubstantial.</p><p>She turned and saw the snow tumbling down the bottom of her cloak.</p><p>“Did you just--?” She didn’t need to finish her question when she looked up and saw him brandishing a second snowball. Belle squinted and pressed her lips together to hold back her smile. “That wasn’t very fair.”</p><p>He scrunched up his nose and grinned. “I don’t play fair.”</p><p>Her eyes darted to the ground, and the disturbed snow between them. Rumple threw the second ball but she ducked and grabbed a handful of snow. She threw it at him haphazardly, and quickly pulled together more snow before he had another chance to attack. She wasn’t sure if it hit him. The ball made no noise, whether it hit him or the ground. But then she looked up, a large snowball poised in her hands, and found that he wasn’t there.</p><p>“Rumple?”</p><p>A snowball landed directly on top of her head, dropped from above. The ball burst and crumbled down over her hood. Belle gasped and pushed the hood back, looking up at her opponent. He stood beside her, leaning over her, and gave her a rather pleased grin.</p><p>Belle’s retaliation was ill-thought-out. She dived at his legs, wrapping her arms around his waist. He stumbled, caught off guard, and toppled backwards into a mound of snow. Her heart pounded with her victory, and she started laughing before she really realised what she’d done. She lay on top of him, pinning him down, and only his stunned, round eyes brought her back to her senses. Her heart began to pound for an altogether different reason. She shivered, and Rumple’s hand came up to touch her arm.</p><p>“We should get you inside,” he said. “Before you turn to ice.”</p><p>Huffing a laugh, Belle quickly pushed herself off him and offered her hand. He was heavier than her, and she wasn’t sure how much help she was, but he took it as he stood all the same. </p><p>Dusting herself off, she followed him back inside, and neither of them said a word as they ascended the kitchen stairs. The warmth of the great hall welcomed her in the doorway, making her skin tingle. She pulled off her gloves and winced at the redness of her fingers.</p><p>“Sit beside the fire,” Rumple said, waving a hand to indicate his chair beside it.</p><p>Belle smiled at him gratefully, and began to unclasp her cloak as she approached the chair. She hung her gloves over the arm and draped her cloak across the back. All the while, she was keenly aware of Rumple’s eyes on her. He couldn’t have known, until that moment, that she only wore her nightgown and a robe. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see the way he looked at her. Instead, she sat down and focused on pulling off her boots. The walk through the halls had dusted off most of the snow, but she placed them beside the fire to warm them up and dry them off.</p><p>When she was finally done, her feet were bare, and all she wore were her nightclothes. Belle looked across the hall, but Rumple wasn’t in the doorway anymore. He had moved to his spinning wheel, where he sat quietly on the stool, slowly turning the wheel. The motion of it held his attention. It gave him something to do with his hands, and kept his eyes on his task while she undressed.</p><p>Smiling to herself, Belle let him be. She sat back in her chair and listened to the motion of the wheel. It clicked and creaked, while the warmth of the fire lulled her off to sleep.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She couldn’t say how long she slept, but it couldn’t have been long. She slowly came back to reality with the warmth of the fire on her face, and Rumplestiltskin’s wheel still turning quietly.</p><p>Her neck ached. Sitting up, she winced and tried to stretch out the kink in her spine. His chair was not made for sleeping in. It was made for sitting alone at the long table; for a man who didn’t seem bothered by the cold or cricks in his neck.</p><p>Belle stood up in an attempt to shake out the stiffness in her limbs. It worked a little, and through it all, the wheel continued to spin.</p><p>“Rumple,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around her middle. He looked up, pulled from his own distracted thoughts, and Belle smiled. “Come sit with me.”</p><p>He made no comment about there only being one chair. He didn’t tease her or laugh. He only looked between her and the wheel, and stood up.</p><p>Relieved, Belle turned her back on him and sat on the rug in front of the hearth. She listened to his approaching footsteps while she loosened the yellow ribbon in her hair and unbraided it. Her hair was still damp. She really couldn’t have been asleep for very long, and it would need brushing out if she wanted to return to her own bed without wet hair.</p><p>Rumple shuffled around behind her. She watched him drape his hide coat and waistcoat over the chair with her own things, and she blamed the warmth in her cheeks on the fire.</p><p>A moment later he knelt behind her, the leather of his trousers and boots creaking, and she stilled.</p><p>“May I?” he asked.</p><p>The heat that spread through her couldn’t be blamed on the fire then. His hands brushed her shoulders, and Belle could only nod when she felt his fingers touch her hair. She held her own hands in her lap, grasping them together tightly, and watched the fire. His touch was gentle. Even when his fingers found a tangle, he carefully brushed it out and smoothed her hair down her back.</p><p>Belle bit her lip, not daring to move. After a time, pleased with his work, Rumple moved from behind her and sat at her side. She watched him, waiting until he was seated comfortably, and spotted a small flash of yellow wrapped around his fingers.</p><p>She plucked it from him. “You can’t take all of my ribbons.”</p><p>“Can’t I?” He reached for it, but Belle was too quick. She held it out of his reach and pressed her hand to his chest. Rumple wasn’t deterred. He smiled, slow and cunning, and Belle shook her head before the words even left his mouth.</p><p>“We could make a deal,” he offered. Using their position to his advantage, he leaned over her, almost pushing her back against the seat of the chair.</p><p>“No,” she countered firmly, gently pushing him backwards. “No more deals.”</p><p>He deflated, if only a little, and let Belle nudge him away. Their eyes stayed on one another. He didn’t notice when she dropped the ribbon and left it on the rug. His gaze didn’t once leave her face, and Belle found that her hand continued to guide him back, until she was kneeling up and leaning over him instead.</p><p>“Are you sure?” he tempted, but there was a hidden meaning behind those words.</p><p><em> Yes</em>, she wanted to say. Yes, she was sure she wanted to make no more deals. Yes, she was sure she wanted to be there, pinning him down.</p><p>Lifting her nightgown above her knees, Belle straddled his legs.</p><p>“Yes,” she said, shrugging off her robe. “I’m sure.”</p><p>Her arms were bare beneath. Only the fire kept her from feeling the cold, and the warmth that rushed through her once he lay back. She splayed her hands across his chest, enjoying the soft touch of his silk shirt, and began to unpluck the buttons. He lay still, almost dazed at the sudden turn in their teasing, and allowed her to do as she pleased. His own hands, tentative at first, smoothed over her bare thighs and squeezed them when she reached the final button.</p><p>“No more deals?” he asked. Something lay hidden in his voice; something she couldn’t understand. She looked at him and released his shirt. It fell open by itself, revealing his bare chest. “Or are you fulfilling our first deal?”</p><p>Belle paused. She hadn’t considered their <em> first </em>deal, only that they had made a new deal each time they’d met.</p><p>“No,” she told both him and herself, then found the truth that she hadn’t allowed herself to think about. “I made that first deal--” she added, drawing her hand down the centre of his chest. His mottled green-gold skin was lighter there, and it glistened in the firelight. “Because I want this.”</p><p>He stared at her, and Belle met his eyes without shame. A part of her had always known that he had wanted her just the same, but she didn’t think that was <em> his </em> reason for suggesting their deal. Rumplestiltskin had wanted to discomfort her. He’d wanted to ask for something which most people would not be willing to give. He was also lonely. His castle sat empty. The snow outside lay untouched, save for the tracks they had made themselves. Perhaps he hadn’t really wanted a child, certainly not just any child. Perhaps he had just wanted <em> someone</em>. Belle could understand that.</p><p>“Do you want this?” she asked gently. He nodded.</p><p>Holding his gaze, she slid her hands lower and tugged at the laces of his trousers. They came away easily, even in her unpractised fingers. He barely moved. His thumbs circled her hip bone, but the rest of his body held still. Belle left his trousers unlaced, without touching him further, and pulled at the laces of her own nightgown. She loosened the front, where it held the neck together with a white ribbon, and let it slip down her shoulder.</p><p>“Rumple,” Belle whispered, snapping him out of whatever fear trapped him.</p><p>He lifted his hand to delicately touch her bare shoulder, and when she didn’t shy away from him, he slid his hand behind her neck. He pulled her down and she leaned down to meet him, and they kissed. The barest of touches, of their lips just brushing together, soon turned into something more. She opened her mouth to him, and his hand moved lower. Pushing aside her opened nightgown, he cupped her breast and teased it with his thumb. He circled the sensitive skin in the same way he had her hip bone, and Belle breathed harder into their kiss.</p><p>At one time she would never have imagined allowing anyone but her husband to touch her in that way. But Belle would never marry. And Belle wanted <em> him </em>to touch her. Just as she wanted to touch him.</p><p>Gliding her hands down over his ribs and stomach, she grasped his trouser laces and pulled the front apart. He groaned and she broke their kiss with a smile.</p><p>“Belle?”</p><p>“Yes,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to his, her nose against his warm cheek. “Yes.”</p><p>She grasped him in her hand, and lined up her hips with his. Rumplestiltskin kissed her between heavy breaths, as she slid down onto the head of his cock. She had to take him in slowly, to allow her body time to adjust to the newness of it all, and he didn’t rush her. He waited, his elbow supporting him while his other hand still teased her breast. Both of them panted, caught in that moment of first being joined, until she was fully seated astride him.</p><p>Placing her hands on his shoulders, Belle urged him to lie back. He did so, gazing up at her all the while, and she smiled. His eyes looked much darker, and much less human, even in the firelight. She wondered how she looked to him, with her hair falling over her face and shoulders.</p><p>Experimentally rocking her hips against him, she flicked her hair back over her shoulder. The way he groaned, digging his fingers into her thighs, delighted her. She did it harder, grinding herself against him. The movement stirred something within herself, fuelled by the sight of him beneath her and the way he gripped her. It was the type of hold that said <em> his</em>. Which was fitting, because he was hers.</p><p>She hummed and tried to find her rhythm. Her hands slid lower, scratching lightly down his chest, so she could still feel him even as her eyes fluttered shut.</p><p>“Rumple,” she sighed, just on the edge of a moan. “Touch me.”</p><p>He lifted his hand from her hip. His fingers skimmed up her side, under her nightgown, to stroke beneath her breast with his thumb.</p><p>“How?” he asked, lifting himself up onto his elbow. Belle’s breath caught. “Like this?”</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>.” The sound came out as more of a breath than a word, and she wasn’t certain, but she was sure she heard him chuckle.</p><p>Following her answer, his tender caresses continued, not lingering in one place for too long. He teased her breasts and stroked down her sides, and all she could do was sigh at each gentle touch.</p><p>“Precious thing,” he muttered, bringing his mouth to her neck. Belle leaned over him and tilted her head to the side. Her hair fell over her face, over her shoulders, but he didn’t seem to mind. He buried his face in it, breathing her in, and kissed his way down the side of her throat.</p><p>“Rumple…”</p><p>He hummed in answer, a pleased and encouraging sound, and nipped at her shoulder. Belle returned the sentiment, tugging his earlobe with her teeth and kissing just beneath it. It encouraged her to try something more. Just as his hands reached her hips, where her skin prickled with heat from the fire, she tried lifting herself along the length of his cock. Faster. Harder.</p><p>“There,” Rumple growled, dropping his head back to see her face. He gripped her tight, following her pace, and could hardly contain the groans she drew from him. “That’s it.”</p><p>Pressing her hands against his shoulders, she pinned him onto his back to ride him harder. He grunted, digging fingers and nails into her thighs, and Belle smiled with parted lips. The slight change in their positions ignited something new in her. Their bodies moved together in just the right way to make her sigh and moan. She dropped her head, closed her eyes, and allowed the tightness to grow deep inside her.</p><p>Every rumour that had been spread about her -- that she allowed the Dark One to touch her, that she was his lover -- became true in that moment. She gladly lay with him. She happily let him touch her.</p><p>Belle pushed herself to keep going, fast and desperate. She keened as she neared her peak, bracing herself against him. Rumple, in turn, held on to her just as tight. His groans and heavy breaths mirrored her own. They were in complete unison. The realisation of that made her smile, even as she gasped and toppled over the edge; especially as he followed her. She threw her head back with a cry, as a wave of pleasure dashed through her.</p><p>When it was gone, when it began to fade, she almost collapsed on top of him. Her arms shook as she lowered herself to his chest, pressing herself against him. Rumple’s arm came up to wrap around her middle. He held her close, while they both panted and tried to catch their breath. Belle could already feel sleep creeping into her sated limbs.</p><p>“That was lovely,” she breathed, lifting her head.</p><p>Rumple scrunched up his nose in response, and looked down to search her face.</p><p>“<em>Lovely</em>?”</p><p>She smiled and shrugged. “I don’t know what else to call it.”</p><p>“Such a lady,” he teased, drawing his hand over the curve of her behind. “I can think of several words.”</p><p>Belle laughed quietly, but didn’t respond. She didn’t want to fill that intimate bliss with teasing words. She wanted to sit quietly, to enjoy simply <em> being </em> with him.</p><p>Slipping down to his side, Belle rested her head on his shoulder and draped her leg and arm across him. He kept his arms around her, with one hand lazily drawing lines up and down her side. Neither of them made an effort to cover themselves or correct their clothing. The heat of the fire made her tingle all over, but she didn’t want to move away.</p><p>“Is this how you pictured it,” Rumple asked quietly, a dazed and thoughtful quality to his voice, “on the floor?”</p><p>Belle smiled sleepily. “Sometimes.”</p><p>“<em>Sometimes?</em>”</p><p>She didn’t answer, but her smile remained.</p><p>They lay like that for a time. Belle drifted in and out of sleep, her head gently rising and falling with each of his breaths, until eventually he lifted her up. Rumple stood and brought her with him, carrying her in his arms. She was only vaguely aware of the shift and crackle of magic in the air, and clothes sliding over her skin. She didn’t remember leaving the Dark Castle and appearing in Avonlea, but she would remember gentle hands tucking her into her own bed. The jostling woke her, but her heavy, content tiredness still lingered. She let him move her around, until she was curled up on her side, with her covers pulled up to her chin.</p><hr/><p>When she awoke properly, light had just started to peak over the horizon. It lit her room with a soft glow, hanging just between the night and early morning.</p><p>Belle sighed and stretched, rolling onto her back. Her bed was very comfy, and a still tired part of her wanted her to stay right there. But she had to get up. There were a few things she needed to right about herself before Jenny came in and saw the tell-tale signs of what had happened in the night.</p><p>With a final sigh, she heaved herself out of bed and stood up. She’d expected to be cold, but a faint warmth radiated from the fireplace, where the embers of last night’s fire still burned. Someone must have stoked it while she slept, and only one person had been in her room since her return. She added a fresh log to the fire with a smile on her face, and disturbed the smouldering ashes with the poker.</p><p>Beside the fire, in her favourite reading chair, lay her cloak and gloves and boots. Her smile grew, even as she hurriedly put them away, and then she paused. Her hair fell loose and wild around her shoulders, but there was no sign of her gold ribbon.</p><p>He’d taken it, after all. <em> Of course he had</em>.</p><p>Pressing her lips into a thoroughly unamused line, she went to her vanity. Of course he’d taken her ribbon in the end, but it seemed like such a small price to pray. He had wanted her company, and had asked for nothing in return. What did it matter that he liked to keep small tokens of hers? Knights asked for tokens often from their loves. It happened all the time in books.</p><p>Taking her brush, Belle attempted to work out the tangles left in her hair. At least she would be relatively presentable when Jenny arrived. There was no need to make her relationship with Rumplestiltskin any more obvious than it already was. Jenny had been good to her before and since her parents had died. They had lived through the Ogres War together, and she didn’t want to scare Jenny away with her new lover. Everyone knew of her relationship with Rumplestiltskin, but they also knew that Avonlea would now be under his protection. Most would be willing to turn a blind eye to their relationship, as long as Belle didn’t flaunt it.</p><p>Wheels clattered along the cobbled yard outside. Belle set down her comb and went to the window. People were already awake in the castle, already hard at work, and there she sat. She may have been awake too, but they all thought she was still abed. That wouldn’t do at all. She still had work of her own. Rumplestiltskin may have seen away all possible suitors, and fixed the western wall, but there were many things she still needed to do for herself.</p><p>A knock came at the door, and Belle answered without turning from the window.</p><p>“Come in.”</p><p>“Good morning, my lady,” Jenny said, bumping the door with her hip as she brought in Belle’s breakfast tray. She paused when she realised Belle was out of bed, and gave her a confused smile. </p><p>“Good morning,” Belle greeted, leaving the window without explanation. She didn’t want to lie around while others ran around after her. She accepted the tray from Jenny with a ‘thank you’ and took it to her seat beside the fire.</p><p>“I didn’t expect you to be up so early, my lady,” Jenny said by way of apology. She moved around behind Belle, while she herself set her tray of porridge and tea on her lap. It smelled wonderful, with a dollop of honey in the centre, but the tea made her think of Rumple, and she heard nothing Jenny said after that.</p><p>“My lady?” Jenny asked, finally catching her attention. She sounded confused, and Belle shot her an apologetic smile. Jenny returned it, but it was an uneasy thing and she nodded to something on Belle’s vanity.</p><p>“Is this… <em> magic</em>?” she asked. The implication that it was <em> his </em> magic tinged her question, and Belle frowned, setting aside her tray.</p><p>Brushing down her nightdress, she went to Jenny and the vanity, and froze. Her heart beat faster; fast enough for her to feel it in her chest. She hoped the tremble in her hands, and the hitch in her breath, weren’t too obvious when she held out her hand. </p><p>“Yes,” Belle said quietly, picking up her ivory comb. It glowed. A soft, yellow light emanated from the hand, in a twining line where Rumple had wrapped his gold.</p><p>“It’s all right,” Belle assured her, not once taking her eyes off the comb. “Would you give me a moment, please?”</p><p>“Of course, my lady.”</p><p>Jenny bobbed a curtsy and left the room in a hurry, pleased to be away from <em> his </em> magic. It may protect them and rebuild their defences, but her own personal belongings showing signs of his magic was much too intimate.</p><p>Only when she was alone did Belle allow herself to smile; tremulously, to match the shaking in her hands. She walked to the centre of her room, at the foot of her bed, and took a deep breath.</p><p>“Rumplestiltskin,” she called out. She didn’t need to call his name again. She never had.</p><p>Turning on the spot, she found him standing in the doorway behind her.</p><p>He was fully dressed, though he wore different clothes to the night before. The black hide had been replaced with deep brown, and his silk shirt was now red. Belle glanced down at herself, at the nightgown she still wore, and Rumple’s eyes followed. She saw the exact moment he noticed the comb. His sure, trickster smile disappeared. His hands stopped their fidgeting.</p><p>Belle wasn’t sure which of them moved first, but they took tentative steps towards one another, until they were close enough to touch.</p><p>Neither of them spoke. He seemed to need a moment to let the reality of what had happened sink in, and then to decide how he would respond. Everything about him was hesitant, stilted and uncertain. He couldn’t meet her eyes, but he had moved closer to her, and rubbed his fingers as though he wanted to reach out for something.</p><p>Belle was less hesitant. She knew what she wanted. Over their weeks together, only two things had been on her mind; rebuilding Avonlea, and their first deal. If things had been different, their first deal might have saved them from the Ogres War. Instead, they had made a deal for a child. Her parents had been lost, but she would gain something just as precious.</p><p>Belle wasn’t hesitant at all. She knew <em> exactly </em> what she wanted.</p><p>“It seems you’ve fulfilled our deal,” Rumplestiltskin said at last, barely moving and without taking his eyes from the comb.</p><p>“I didn’t do it for our deal,” she said. His eyes jumped up to meet hers. They narrowed, full of doubt, and Belle sighed. “You offered me a way out from the start. You asked for my child, knowing I may never have one.” His eyes darted down to her flat stomach, and Belle smiled. “It wasn’t until we’d spent time together that you <em> really </em> wanted my child, and I agreed to it freely.”</p><p>People would be as fond of the idea of her having the Dark One’s child as they were of her relationship with him. It would unsettle them, but most would tolerate it. It would remain an unspoken, poorly kept secret for the sake of keeping Avonlea safe. Everyone had been through too much to want to see any further unrest or tragedy. Rumple might not see that. His own hesitations came from elsewhere, and she had a feeling she knew where.</p><p>Stepping forward, Belle closed the small gap between them and pressed her chest to his.</p><p>“I didn’t do it for our deal,” she repeated firmly. “I did it because I want to.”</p><p>He searched her face, a glimmer of hope in his doubtful eyes.</p><p>“Why?” he asked quietly.</p><p>Belle smiled ruefully and shrugged. “I don’t want any more regrets.”</p><p>Warily, Rumple lifted his hand to her cheek, and only allowed himself to give in to hope when she leaned her head into his touch. They smiled at one another, and both leaned forward at the same time to brush their lips together.</p><p>It began as a slow, light kiss, that turned to something more when they felt the other reciprocate. Belle certainly wouldn’t regret this. From all of the awful things that had happened that year, she had been able to find something beautiful. She kissed Rumple harder, parting his lips with hers. His hands came down to her hips, finally resting, and Belle made up her mind for a second time.</p><p>She took his hand and took him to bed.</p>
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